Lyra Cygnus Lestrange
by littlelapwing
Summary: Lyra Cygnus Lestrange is the daughter of Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange. After 17 years of torture from her parents, she is rescued by a group of aurors and brought to 12 Grimmauld Place. How will Lyra begin to rebuild a life? Starts in OOTP.
1. The Rescue

**The Rescue**

I jerked upright, shaking. Weak sunlight streamed in through the grimy windows; it was dawn, meaning I had been asleep for at least three hours. A rarity. Beside my long matted hair there were a few hunks of stale bread and an old plastic cup containing precious water. I grabbed the bread with grubby fingers, quickly shovelling the dry food into my mouth and feeling it settle in my empty stomach. My parched tongue then called for the water, so I guzzled it quickly, but the meagre amout hardly quenched my thirst.

A dark figure then came into view, and I quickly hauled myself onto my bare scratched feet, knowing exactly who the figure was; I couldn't show weakness in front of her. Her black, wild hair, exactly the same as my own, hung over her heavily lidded eyes, and her creul lips stretched into a crazed grin.

"Lyra, my darling, how did you sleep? You look so tired; perhaps I need to wake you up further?"

Before I could formulate a response, her wand slashed down and I felt a long gash appear on my right arm, blood seeping down and welling in my palm. Then the pain registered and I gasped involintarlily; I had learned by now a scream is the best way of ensuring more pain would be inflicted on me.

"You awake yet darling?" Bellatrix sneered. "I can always—"

A loud crash was suddenly heard downstairs and Bellatrix froze mid-sentence.

"Rodolphus?" She called. But I knew it was not him; my father was many things but certainly not clumsy enough to cause such an almighty crash. For the first time in my life, Bellatrix looked truly shocked, but she recovered herself quickly.

"Oh hello, it's those aurors isn't it? You here to play little aurors?" Bellatix sang. "Lyra know how do play, don't you darling? Look: _crucio!_"

I stumbled backwords, tears forming in my eyes. No matter what torture my mother subjected me to, the cruciatus curse was always the worse. I bit back a scream though; over the years I had become better at hiding my pain.

"That not painful enough, darling?"

My eyes widened; normally she wanted me _not _to scream. Before I could begin to reply, her wand slashed in a series of extreemely complicated manovours that I had never seen before, with a wicked smile gracing her lips.

"That should be better, darling"

This time, I did scream. My entire body felt like it was on fire; an unstoppable pain radiated in every direction as thousands of deep cuts opened up all over my body, drenching my dirty rags in blood.

But before my head hit the floor and the blackness consume me, I was sure I heard a distant shout of '_stupify' _in a voice that did definatley not belong to either of my parents.


	2. 12 Grimmauld Place

**12 Grimmauld Place**

My head ached; my body ached. I felt awful. The ground below me was unfamiliar; it was soft somehow. But I was far too tired to sit up and investigate. Foggily, my brain processed what had just happened to me. Where were my parents? Where was _I_? My ears detected some hushed conversation close by. Straining my ears, I could just make out the words.

"—this Mad-Eye, but who is she?"

"It's a long story; are you all listening? Well, you know how we've been searching for the Lestrange residence for years now?"

"You found it?"

"Yes; we saw Rodolphus himself walk through the front door! We blasted through the door—"

"Oh, you always have to be dramatic Mad-Eye"

"—and stunned Rodolphus in the hallway. We could hear Bellatix seemingly talking to herself upstairs, so we approached her quietly and stunned her; they're both in Azkaban now."

"Good. But how does the girl fit in to this?"

"Ah, well it turned out Bellatrix wasn't talking to herself; she has a daughter."

"A daughter?"

"That girl's their daughter?"

"Why is she not in Azkaban?"

"What—?"

"Stop! Yes, the Lestranges have a daughter! And no, she's not going to Azkaban. Bellatrix was torturing her; I bet she hates her mother more than we do. But I'm sure what to do with her. Albus?"

"Well, I don't see why the Order can't look after her until September, and then if she's up to it, she can enroll at Hogwarts."

"Thank you. Oh, someone should go and check on her; she may wake soon."

"Oh the poor dear, I'll go. But who's going to tell the kids?"

"We can explain the situation in the morning Molly."

"Okay Sirius."

My brain pounded as I tried to stay awake, struggling to understand the congersation. I was ecstatic that my parents were in Azkaban, however. But that still left the question: _Where was I?_

But as gentle footsteps approched me, promising answers, the blackness overtook me once more.


	3. The Weasleys

**The Weasleys**

Hushed murmuring surrounded me. Groggily, I slowing lifted my tired eyelids.

"She's awake!"

"Hush now. Hello dear, how are you feeling?"

The speaker was a rather plump woman with a kind face and vibrant ginger hair. I frowned, how did she think I felt? I was covered in cuts a bruises and suffering from the long term effects of the cruciatus curse, for heaven's sake!

"Oh, just marvellous," I replied.

"Ooh she's sarcastic; I like this one."

This time the voice was much deeper, but it also came from a red-head. He was tall and well-built, and standing next to a boy who was his exact replica. Twins, I guessed.

"I'm George Weasley—" the other boy spoke.

"—and I'm Fred Weasley," completed the original speaker.

"Pleased to be of your aquaintance," they said in unison.

I grinned; I could tell by the sparkle of mischief in their eyes that these two were pranksters.

"Well I'm Lyra Lestrange, although I expect you already know that already."

The woman chucked sadly. "Yes we do, but you'll be pleased to know both of your, erm, parents, are in Azkaban now."

This time I smiled fully, "That is great news, er—"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm Molly Weasley," exclaimed the kind lady.

The people surrounding me, who were predominantly red-heads, then began to introduce themselves, but I forgot most of the names as soon as they were spoken. Only 'Harry Potter' and 'Sirius Black' stuck in my mind as I heard heard them before.

"Well, it's, er, nice to meet you all," I smiled politely.

"Oh goodness, you must be so tired dear, come on all you lot, let's let her rest." Mrs Weasly began to shepherd away some of the many people surrounding my bed.

"No honestly, I'm not tired—" I protested.

"Nonsense," she replied. "You need to sleep to recover. Take this potion; you should feel a lot better when you wake up."

"Thank you, Mrs Weasley." I accepted the potion, smiling gratefully.

"Not a problem, dear. Now get some sleep," she instructed.

I saw the twins wink at me before the door closed once more, leaving me to my thoughts. I couldn't believe my luck that I had finally escaped the hell I used to call a home. And my saviours all seemed like kind, genorous people, unlike anyone is met before. Smiling contentedly to myself, I grabbed the bottle of thick, gloopy cabbage-coloured potion. Shuddering, I swallowed it, forcing the foul concoction down my throat. There must have been a sleeping draught in the potion, for as soon as I placed the bottle back on my bedside table, my head hit the pillow and sleep enveloped me.


	4. Dinner

**Dinner**

Upon waking again, I immediately felt much better then I had before. I sluggishly pushed my body upright and lowered my feet to the carpeted floor. Discovering I still felt stable, I stood up, but then a wave of dizziness assaulted me. Staggering, I caught onto the edge of a table for support and waited for it to pass. Once I felt in control I stepped forward again, before halting one more. I looked down in shock.

I was attired in clothes quite unlike I had ever seen before. My torso was draped with a thick loose fitting green fabric, and a tight black fabric was wrapped around my legs; it was surprisingly comfortable. I supposed my rescuers had seen fit to change me out of my blood soaked rags, which I mentally thanked them for. I assumed this was muggle clothing as I couldn't imagine any witch or wizard dressed the way I was.

Opening the door, I progressed into the hallway. I listened intently, recognising the sound of cheerful conversation downstairs. Following my ears, I descended the stair case and pushed open the door, which turned out to lead into the dining room. Everyone looked up at my entrance; Mrs Weasley bustled over to me, looking concerned.

"Lyra dear, how are you? Are you sure you should be out of bed? Has the pain gone away?"

"Yes Mrs Weasley, I'm much better thanks. Although I am a little hungry..." My stomach growled to back up this statement.

"Of course dear, sit down! I'll bring you some food right away," she replied, leaving the dining room.

Grinning, I pulled a chair out next to the twins. "Hey you two," I greeted them.

"Hey yourself," they chorused.

Before I could strike up any conversation, Mrs Weasley had reappeared, brandishing a plate stacked full of steaming food.

"Here you go dear."

My eyes widend. All that food for me? "Thank you so much Mrs Weasley, is all of this for me?"

"Of course dear, there's seconds if you're still hungry!" With that, she returned to her seat at the other end of the table.

Smiling to myself, I immediately began to guzzle the food, only just remembering the table manners my Aunt Narcissa had taught me. She had insisted I would grow up to be a 'proper pure-blood lady' when she had visited, although Bellatrix certainly didn't seem to care.

"Woah there, don't forget to breathe!" Joked one of the twins.

I grinned at him. "But it's so good," I replied, gesturing with my fork.

"You sound like Ron," chuckled the other twin.

I shrugged, and went back to inhaling my food, although at a slightly slower rate.

Throughout dinner the food remained the best I had ever tasted, and the twins proved to be extremely hilarious. My stomach was aching by the end of the meal with how much food I had consumed and then sheer amount of laughter that had taken place.

"Come on," said George. "We want to show you something."

Curious, I followed the twins up the stairs, past the door to my room and into theirs. Inside were two twin beds, pushed against each wall, neither of them made. It was distinctly messier than my room; clothes, both muggle and wizard, were strewn across the floor, which was also littered with sweet wrappers.

"Welcome—" Fred began.

"—to our humble abode," finished George.

Grinning, I sat down on the nearest bed.

"What did you want to show me then?" I queried.

"This."

George whipped out a small hat covered in pink feathers and placed it on his head. For a moment, he looked ridiculous, standing there and grinning like an idiot, but then both the hat and his head disappeared.

I immediately burst out laughing; the sight was just hilarious. He reached up into seemingly mid-air, and plucked the hat off his head, which made them both visible again.

"Headless hats!" Fred proclaimed. "Do you like them?"

"They're brilliant!" I exclaimed. "Where did you get them from?"

"We invented them," stated George proudly.

"You invented them?" I repeated, shocked. That looked like difficult magic. Not that I knew much about magic, however. Bellatrix had never seen fit to teach me.

"Yep. We plan on selling them: 2 Galleons each. We want to start a joke shop," replied George.

"That's such a good idea!" I said, smiling. "I bet they will fly off the shelves."

"Glad you think so," responded Fred. "Mum certainly doesn't agree with us, but she'll come round."

"Wanna try one on?" Offered George.

Grinning, I nodded eagerly, and George offered me the pink feathered fashion disaster of a hat. I jammed it on my head and waited for something to happen.

The twins broke out into laughter at the sight of me headless./p

"What are you laughing at?" I asked, my lips twitching. "I've lost my head, this is a very serious issue."

At this the twins only laughed harder.

"Seriously, I need you to help me find my head; I'm panicking here!" I quipped sarcastically.

Ron then took this moment to open the door. He surveyed the scene, obviously confused, but then he shrugged as if this was perfectly normal to him, and he turned to face a headless me.

"Lyra, once you've found your head, mum wants you to go back to bed. She says there's more potion by your bed." And with that, he left.

Giggling, I pulled the hat off my head and chucked it back to George.

"I love it." I said.

"Jolly good," replied Fred, chuckling. "Now go and get your beauty sleep."

"Because you need it," quipped George.

I shot a glare at him, before a smile broke across my face.

"'Night guys."

"'Night Lyra," they chorused back.

Chuckling to myself, I returned back to my room. I settled back down into the soft sheets, already feeling tired despite having only been awake for a couple of hours. I grabbed the bottle of vile cabbages-coloured potion, which I downed in one in order to eliminate the foul aftertaste. Snuggling into my pillow, I fell asleep with a smile gracing my lips.


	5. Dumbledore's Visit

**Dumbledore's Visit**

"Wake up, sleepyhead"

Groggily, I peeled open my eyes, frowning. Two dots of red hair came into my vision.

"Ugh go away, I'm sleeping," I slurred.

"No your not," said Fred, who was far too chirpy considering it was morning. "Mum told us to get you up for breakfast, and then there's someone who wants to talk to you."

Grumbling, I threw off the covers and slowly stood up, rubbing my eyes. I knew my thick black hair was an utter disaster, but I didn't have the effort to fix it yet, so I left it in its messy plait I had fallen asleep with.

'Oh dear, looks like someone's a little tired."

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking George?"

"If you're thinking she needs a little wake up, then I am Fred."

George picked up the water cup by my bed and grinned at me mischievously.

"No, stop!" I cried. But then I realised something. "Wait, you called him Fred, but he's George, isn't he?" I asked, pointing to the twin holding my water.

George looked truly shocked; he set down the water slowly and stared at me with wide eyes.

"You can—" he began.

"—tell us apart?" finished Fred.

I nodded slowly. "Why, can't anyone else?"

They shook their heads.

"How?" George queried.

I stared at them intently before answering. "Well, the differences are quite minor, but... George has a slightly rounder face whereas Fred's is more angular, George's freckles are darker, and Fred's hair tends to fall in his eyes more. Oh, and Fred's voice is marginally deeper."

They turned to each other, with wide eyes.

"Nobody's ever noticed that before," stated Fred.

"Hell, even we've never noticed that before!" Exclaimed George.

I grinned. "I guess I'm just more observant then."

Fred chuckled. "Well it is nice to be recognised for who you are once in a while... And not just a twin. No offence, Georgie."

"None taken, Freddie. Come on Lyra, we really need to get to breakfast now!" He gestured out of the door.

Feeling marginally more awake, I followed the twins down the stairs and into the dining room. The chatter was a lot more subdued than at dinner last night; I guessed the twins were the only morning people in the family. I sank down into a chair and reached over to grab some toast. Spreading on some jam, I took a large bite of the heavenly food. It was just so much better than what I was used to.

Mrs Weasley looked up at me. "Ah, Lyra, I'm glad you're down now, Albus said he would be here any moment; he wants to see you."

"Albus?" I questioned.

"Professor Dumbledore," cut in Fred. "He's headmaster of Hogwarts, our school."

I nodded slowly; I remembered the name now. "What does he want with me?"

But before Mrs Weasley could respond, a gust of wind could be heard which unmistakably meant the door had been opened (nobody rang the doorbell as it disturbed Sirius' mum's portrait).

"Ah, that must be him," commented Mrs Weasley, bustling out of the kitchen to greet him. Curiously, I stood up and followed her into the hallway, becoming suddenly aware of my crumpled attire and catastrophic bed hair. But it was too late to fix anything, so I continued forward.

Standing there was a tall wizard adorned in midnight blue robes. His long grey beard was tucked into his belt. He had a kind face, although it was creased with wrinkles which showed both old age and the stress of the war. Wise eyes peered at me through half moon spectacles; they held a slight twinkle of mischief not unlike that of the twins.

"Hello Miss Lestrange," he greeted me. "You certainly have recovered well since I last saw you unconscious."

"Yes," I agreed. "I've never felt better."

Smiling at me kindly, he motioned towards the lounge. "Shall we continue our conversation in comfort?"

Nodding, I followed him and settled onto a squashy pale green armchair. "What did you come to see me for?" I asked.

Instead of replying, he asked me a question. "How much magic do you know, Miss Lestrange?"

"Not much at all, I'm afraid. I don't have a wand, you see."

Dumbledore nodded. "Ah, I suspected as much. But I believe you would like to go to Hogwarts in September with you friends?"

I looked at him, shocked. Go to magic school? I had never even considered the possibility. But now he had suggested it, my mind ran wild with the possibilities of what I could learn; the fun, _normal_, life I could have...

My excitement must have shown on my face, because Dumbledore chuckled. "I see that you would like too."

"If at all possible, er—" I wasn't quite sure what to call him.

"If you are to come to Hogwarts, you will address me as 'sir' or 'professor'," he answered my unspoken question.

"Of course, sir," I nodded.

"Now," he began, "since you are 17, you would normally be entering the seventh year at Hogwarts, but clearly the magic is far more advanced than your current level. However I do believe it is best when one learns and socialises with others their age. Therefore I propose that I can come and teach you basic spells and potions here over summer, as you are of age, and when we arrive at Hogwarts you can enter seventh year with your peers, but continue extra lessons with me to enhance your education. Obviously it depends on how fast you learn; we will take everything at your pace. How does that sound?"

"That sounds amazing, professor," I breathed.

He smiled at me kindly. "In which case, I suggest you go and buy a wand later today – I'm sure Sirius will be happy to lend you the money; we can commence lessons tomorrow."

"Wow, yes, of course sir!" I exclaimed. "Thank you so much!"

"That's quite all right Miss Lestrange. I'll see you tomorrow at 10 o'clock. Goodbye." And with that he left, leaving me mumbling a hasty 'goodbye' in response.

For a moment, I sat there in shock, staring at the wall, an excited grin stretched across my face. I was going to Hogwarts! I was going to learn magic! Jumping up, I bounced back into the dining room to tell everyone the good news.


	6. Diagon Alley

**Diagon Alley**

Diagon Alley was exceptionally busy. Hundreds of witches and wizards sporting a variety of colours bustled about their daily lives. I could see a group of teenage girls standing outside Quality Quidditch Supplies, excitedly chatting and giggling about a broom that was placed proudly in the window. A family with young children were seated in Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, soaking up the summer days of sun, happily munching on many different flavours of ice cream. I giggled softly when I saw the toddler miss his mouth with his ice cream, earning himself a bright red dot on his petite nose; his mother sighed and leaned over to gently sponge it off with a tissue.

All these people with busy lives; they knew where they belonged; they had a family, friends they had known for longer than a few days, it made me feel quite... Lonely. I knew I was lucky to have the Weasley's and their friends, but I still felt like an outsider. I knew I would never quite belong. My dear mother had stolen my childhood from me. Wincing, I remembered her cold, creul cackle, the violent slash of her wand as she inflicted her newest pain on me.

"Are you alright dear? We're heading for Ollivander's now." I looked up and saw Mrs Weasley's kind face peering at me. All the others had started walking; they had all come as well as the Hogwarts lists had arrived and they needed their own school supplies. Shaking myself to push the depressing thoughts to the recesses of my mind, I strode quickly to catch up with everyone else, shooting a smile in Mrs Weasley's direction.

"Ah Lyra!" Exclaimed Fred. "Are you ready—"

"—to get your first wand?" George finished.

i shook my head in exasperation. "How do you do that? The finishing each other's sentences thing?"

"Well, young Lyra. Some say—"

"That our minds our connected."

"Which frankly is quite scary, I mean, have you seen George?"

"Oi!"

I giggled and came to a halt in front of a narrow shop entitled 'Olivander's'.

"Right, everyone!" Called Mrs Weasley. "You can split up into groups to buy all your things; we'll meet next to the Leaky Cauldron at 5pm. Is that ok?"

There were generic murmurings of 'yes' and 'yeah' amongst the group, before everyone slowly dispersed. The twins, however, stayed next to me.

"Ok, you two," began Mrs Weasley, turning the twins. "Can I trust you to guide Lyra around? There's a few thing I need to get myself."

"Of course Mum," said Fred.

"We're extremely trustworthy," George added.

Mrs Weasley narrowed her eyes at them, before wishing me 'good luck' at finding a wand. She headed off, the thick crowd quickly swallowing her.

A shop bell rang quietly as we entered. Behind the desk, a old man with pale white hair and luminous eyes looked up at me curiously.

"Who do we have here?" He inquired. "I've never seen you before, yet you certainly look older than 11."

"I'm starting Hogwarts this year, and I need a wand," I explained. When he continued to look at me curiously I elaborated quietly: "My name is Lyra Lestrange."

His moon like eyes widened in understanding. "Well, Miss Lestrange. Let's see if we can find you a wand."

Fred grinned eagerly. "I love this bit," he proclaimed. "I wander if you'll be a difficult customer."

I turned to him, my eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"You'll see." He gave me a knowing smirk.

Ollivander had returned, and in his wrinkled hands was a thin dusty box. He pried of the lid and looked up at me.

"Which arm is your wand arm?" He asked.

"Left," I replied.

Nodding as if he expected that, he handed me the wand, which was 'cherry, 10 1/4 inches, kelpie mane core, and reasonably springy' with the instruction of 'give it a wave'.

As it turned out, I proved Fred wrong. I wasn't a difficult customer; quite the contrary as the first wand I touched turned out to be perfect. On giving it a wave, all the boxes on the shelves, flew out, then flew back in but in a much neater and regular order.

Ollivander looked at me in amazement. "That's the first time in a few years anyone has found the right wand first time. But I thank you for organising my shelves; I have been meaning to do that for a while."

Grinning, I handed over 7 Galleons and left the shop. Then it hit me: I had a wand! I could now learn to do magic! Even the twins teasing me about the first magic I had done being organising (apparently they had caused miniture fireworks apon finding their wands, typical), couldn't dampen my mood. I was truly extatic.


	7. My First Lesson

**A/N: I had just typed this chapter up, but then I managed to lose it because for some reason it didn't save, so sorry if this isn't very good but ****I'm very irritated at the moment. and also, just to let you know, my updating will be very slow from now on as exams are upon me; revision must take priority :( but thank you to anyone who's taking the time to read my story, and a special thank you to anyone who's reviewed; it really makes my day! :)**

**My First Lesson**

The next day, I was extremely excited to have my first ever magic lesson. Not even George spilling porridge on my lap at breakfast could dampen my mood. (Mrs Weasley gave him a stern look before apologising to me; she cleaned it up with a flick of her wand. I couldn't wait to be able to do that!) After a hearty breakfast consisting of porridge, fruit and toast I bounced into the lounge, twirling my wand with excitement. I sank down into the moth-eaten velvet sofa, eagerly anticipating Dumbledore's arrival.

Not even thirty seconds later, a swirl of deep maroon robes entered the room. A smile graced his lips as he looked at me; his blue eyes twinkled over his half-moon spectacles as he settled into the sofa opposite me.

"Miss Lestrange, I see you are ready for our lesson," he began kindly, eyeing my wand which I was still subconsciously twirling between my fingers. "I trust you slept well?"

Nodding, I grinned at him. "Very well sir, thank you. I'm very excited to learn magic."

"Good, good," he replied, smiling warmly. "Now, I thought perhaps first we could learn a fairly simple spell, although it is still challenging for some first years. The aim is to make an object fly; the incantation is 'wingardium leviosa'. Use the wand movement swish and flick, thus:"

Reaching deep into the folds of his robes, Dumbledore extracted his wand. He performed the spell, and confidently pointed it at the empty tea mug sitting on the table between us. It rose up steadily and surely, without a wobble or quiver, for half a metre. He held it there for a couple of seconds, before it began its descent, gracefully landing on the table again with a small _thud_. Looking at me expectantly, he motioned for me to try.

Uncertainly, I fumbled with my wand and proclaimed: "wingardium leviosa."

The mug fell over.

Dumbledore however, did not look disheartened; indeed he looked at me with new curiosity.

"Try again," he suggested. "Although perhaps with less wand movement this time."

Reaching over, I rightened the toppled mug. I furrowed my eyebrows in concentration, trying to move my wand less exclaiming 'wingardium leviosa' with a little more confidence.

This time, the mug did indeed fly. It shakily rose upwards, hovered, quaking at about 20cm from the table, before suddenly crashing down, shattering the mug into thirds as it landed. I winced at the sound of it breaking.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry sir–" But upon looking up at Dumbledore, I halted, for he was positively gleeful.

"That was excellent!" He proclaimed.

Confused, I frowned at him. "It was?" I had just broken a mug after all.

Dumbledore seemed to realise what I was thinking. "Oh the mug," he reached over and pointed his wand at it; it instantly reformed until it stood, whole and proud. "That's doesn't matter. But, _you_, Miss Lestrange."

"Me?" I asked, still confused.

"Yes!" Enthused Dumbledore. "You remember me telling you most first years struggle with that spell to start with?" I nodded in affirmative. "Well, you managed it on just your second try! Admittedly, it was shaky and needs practise, but most first years prepare theory for weeks before attempting the spell, and even then it can take another week before it yields any results. I know you are not eleven, Miss Lestrange, but the fact you can produce results such as this is very promising. I do believe that with a lot of hard work this summer, you will be able to fit in with the rest of your year at Hogwarts."

"Really?" I gasped. "Well, wow thank you sir!"

He nodded at me, smiling kindly. "I hate to cut this lesson short, but I have a lunchtime meeting. Do practice this spell for next lesson though; I'm sure the others, particularly Miss Granger, will be keep to help you."

Grinning, I nodded. "I'll practice, professor," I promised.

Smiling at me once more, he turned and left.

Clutching at my wand with a new sense of determination, I hurried out of the lounge in order to find either Hermione or the twins to help me master my newly learned spell.


End file.
